Whispers in the Dark
by InvaderZimWannabeX3
Summary: With her, everything's fine, except everything's wrong. She's become a monster thanks to them, living on the outskirts of her peer's lives. Maybe the new kid can change her for the better. AU, Rated T just in case.
1. Monster

**new story. WHOO! 8D  
aaaanyways… this was a dream i had a few nights ago… weird, right?  
everything in this story is based on my real life stuff. my history teacher's name isn't Mrs. Amber, though. it's her first name. xD  
i own nothing, especially not IZ, even though i wish i did. that belongs to the lovely Jhonen Vasquez, one of my heros… next to Tim Burton, that is. and, random note here, but who else thinks JV and TB should make a movie together? :D  
oh well. rate and review when you're done reading, por favor! ^^**

High school. What God invented to see if teenagers would survive Hell. The cliques, the drama (of course, _you're_ never the one that starts it), the evilness of it all. Freshmen are known as fresh meat, and Senior's words are law. The only reason teachers are there is to pass or fail you. Keep your opinions to yourself, unless you have a death wish. There's a way things work, all following the social food chain. Nothing ever got out of order.

That is, unless, you belonged to History 9H, fourth block.

The students were all different in some way, and they all – for the most part – accepted each other.

The white brick room was located in the basement. The windows that made up the south wall were either always open, or the blinds were closed. There was no pencil sharpener, and the chalk board was scarcely used anymore.

Two boys – one with a disarray of curly caramel hair, and the other a lofty, gawking teenager – raced around the room on spinny chairs. One of the chairs was missing it's back, but the other one had a stiff wheel, causing it steering problems. They laughed piercingly as they crashed into the walls, the teacher's oak desk (that was most likely bought at a yard sale), and the old-fashioned pink cabinets beneath the windows. The rest of the students laughed with them, making sure they were out of the boy's way.

One teenager, however, didn't find any of it amusing.

She sat on the boisterous air conditioner between the cabinets. This was _her_ seat, and no one else's. Theoretically, though, it wasn't really her seat. She had a desk. The air conditioner was just hers until the bell rang.

Her iPod rested in her hand, and Monster by Skillet blasted out of the ear buds. iPods and cell phones were strictly prohibited during school hours, but no one questioned her. Except her math teacher, which was probably the reason she was failing the class in the first place. She needed music to function properly.

The girl rolled her chocolate-colored eyes in aggravation as one of the racers crashed into the air conditioner. He shot her a look that said, _"Keep out of my way." _ Her dark bangs hung right above her eyebrows, and the rest of her locks only came to right below her chin.

No one acknowledged her, and she acknowledged no one. That was the unvoiced statute the class had all made at the beginning of the year; the dark-haired girl was a silent freak, so she was to be overlooked unless obligatory. At least, that was what it had seemed like.

High school was one bewildering, ghastly place.

In eighth grade, she had been friends with everyone, and everyone liked having her around – at least, that's what it seemed like. Then, Freshman year, she was an exile. An outsider of the social ranks of High School. It didn't _seem_ to bother her. But she was crammed with secrets.

The door opened, and in came an average-looking lady in her early 40's, arms filled of papers and books. A few people sat down at their desks, but everyone else continued what they were doing. As the bell rang, the two boys on the spinny chairs returned their racing 'machines' into The Cave; a dark computer lab that was connected to the classroom. Everyone took their seats as the teacher started up a Power Point presentation from which the students would take notes. The silent girl sat down at her desk; second from the left, last row.

She, of course, kept her ear phones in as the teacher started talking. Instead of taking notes, she used her paper to draw. It remained a mystery of what was being drawn on the paper. With a knock on the door, the teacher silenced herself.

The vice principal poked his head in. He was a tall man, with his black hair turning white with age. Sweat always seemed to be shining on his brow, but maybe it was an false impression. He always wore a tuxedo with a red tie, and the same shoes every day.

"Mrs. Amber, you have a new student."

With those words, everyone turned towards the door, impatient to see who would be joining them.

Everyone, that is, except for the short-haired girl. She kept her concentration on her paper, continuing to draw.

In walked the new kid. He was somewhere between tall and short. He had black hair that looked like it belonged to Elvis Presley, and his skin was somewhat green. His ears weren't able to be seen, and his nose might as well not have been there. He wore a long magenta-red tank overtop a long-sleeved pink shirt. Black skinny jeans were tucked inside black boots, which didn't even come to his knees. The new kid wore black gloves, and – from the looks of it – his fingers were claw-like. He carried a gray and pink-spotted knapsack on his backside. Everyone was soundless until the teacher cleared her throat.

"You can take a seat next to Taylor," she said vaguely. Hearing her name, the silent girl gave a half-hearted, sarcastic wave, not bothering to glance up from her paper. The new kid took his seat to the right side of her.

Feeling someone's gaze, the schoolgirl looked up. Wide, pale lavender orbs bore into muddy brown eyes, looking like moons this close. For the first time, the new boy spoke.

"My name's Zackery Ian McWay, but you can call me Zim."


	2. Hurricane

**yepyep, chapter 2 up! ^^ and it's 4:30 in the morning as i type… hehehe… ^^"  
anyways, i don't care if y'all hate this story. i've promised myself that I'm going to finish this. :)  
wow, right before i published this, i noticed that i almost put my real last name. whoops! xD**

"Ermm… Taylor Dawn. But just call me Taylor. Anything else, you'll find yourself waking up in Cuba tomorrow morning." Zim just blinked at the girl's comeback. She was sort of fear-provoking, in all honesty.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too," he muttered, turning to face the teacher. The girl only shot him a glare, going back to scribble on her paper.

The new student glanced over at her drawing; it was nothing out of the ordinary, just a lot of eyes. What made them stand out, on the other hand, was the fact that they were all… special. There wasn't a way he could label it, but _special_ seemed to cover it, in his mind.

As Mrs. Amber continued lecturing about JFK's assassination, Zim continued stealing a peek at Taylor's paper. All the eyes seemed to either be glaring, pay no attention to, or annoyed at the pair in the middle. A certain innocence glowed in them, yet they looked strong.

One certain pair caught his attention, one off to the side. They were wide, and the pupils were more rectangular than circular. They were eyes that he saw every day.

They were his own.

They didn't look annoyed, angry, or bored. They looked as if they were determined, glancing vaguely at the pair in the center of the paper. The rectangular irises held compassion, no hate.

That had to top his list on things he hadn't expected.

As the bell rang, everyone leapt from their seats and headed towards the door. Taylor, however, took her time. She hadn't said a word since she had greeted – if it could even be considered a greeting – Zim.

After all of her things were inside of her bag, she suddenly turned to the new student.

"What class do you have next?" Zim was taken aback by her sudden words, then pulled out his schedule from the binder he was carrying. It was a maroon color, and had an almost-black triangle sat in the center. Horn-like symbols rested on top, and two small circles were placed on the triangle.

"English." Taylor nodded, walking out into the hallway. The boy blinked his wide eyes, shrugging and following her out after a moment.

The room was crowded, but Zim didn't care anymore. He had to walk up four flights of stairs just to get here. He sat down in the first empty seat he found, closing his eyes and catching his breath.

"Looks like you found your way just fine, pretty boy." One eye popped open instantly, shifting to catch a glimpse of a familiar figure. She was sitting down at the next desk, not even looking at him. She was reading a hardback copy of _Thirteen Reasons Why_.

"How'd you..?" The new student was at loss for words, trying to figure out how she had gotten up here so fast. She rolled her chocolate-brown eyes, putting down her book.

"It's called 'sneaking on the elevator'. The elevator that's strictly for injured kids." She turned in her seat to face him, crossing her arms. Zim tapped a small beat on his desk with his glove-covered fingers. "Skillet fan, I see."

"Eh?" One of his pale violet eyes grew more, and the other seemed to shrink. "What is this Skillet, you speak of?" The girl shook her head, pulling out her iPod and handing him one of the ear buds. He slowly took it, holding it where his ears were… or perhaps, should be. At first, nothing sounded. Then a quick, sudden crescendo, and bass, guitar, and drums were sounding together.

_The darkest side of me, I never let you see. I keep it caged but I can't control it._

He had to admit, the beat was exactly what he had been tapping a few moments earlier. Casting a quick glance at her, Zim noticed that the quiet girl was staring off into space, a serious look on her face. Something inside of him wanted to figure out why this song made her look so threatening.


	3. Looking Hot, Dangerous!

The days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months. Before anyone knew it, summer had come and gone. New schedules, new teachers, new classes. Basically, a new life for everyone.

Of course, there are always those who didn't see it that way.

As everyone came back that first day, the first thing people noticed was what had changed about others. Some for good, some for bad. Haircuts, tans, new styles.

Zim was no exception.

As he stepped into his first classroom, all eyes turned on him.

His first class happened to be History 10H. It was almost like that first day all over again.

He had changed a bit, just as all others had.

In addition to growing a couple inches, he had changed his hair. Now, instead of Elvis style, he went with more shaggy black hair, having it hang a little over his pale violet eyes. His style was basically the same, other than that. He might have gained a little tan, but there was still the obvious green tint.

Either way, he had been dubbed as strange from day one.

It seemed like no one had seen certain people over the whole summer break, and a few people were waiting eagerly to see them again. That was the only good thing about school. Others were enduring the pain with you. The door opened, and one last person stepped in.

Yes, Zackery Ian McWay had changed.

Taylor, on the other hand, was like a whole new person.

Her hair was now a dark brown, and had lost the red streaks. It had grown out to her shoulders, and her bangs were swept to the side. Her skin seemed to be clean of zits and oil, but with the perfect balance of shine. A natural blush was placed on her cheeks, and it seemed that she had gotten clear of a few freckles.

She stood in an innocent pose; straight, and with her arms wrapped around her books protectively. Her piercing eyes, now seeming to be shining with the stars themselves, darted around, looking at everyone and everything hastily. Her face was downcast a slight bit, giving her face the ideal shadow.

With a pair of brown suede cowboy boots that came to about her knees, she wore a simple tan sundress. The same necklace she had started wearing two years ago had been replaced by a simple golden necklace, adorned with a leaf charm. Her nails were painted a bright blue, going wonderful with the brown.

Everyone was astonished at how much one person had changed during the summer.

Jake, of course, was the most blown away.

Him and Taylor had been close since he had moved to the small town in seventh grade. That was four years ago. He had grown since then, standing at least five inches taller than her. His hair was cut shorter than she thought necessary, but she didn't complain aloud. His eyes were a murky brown, and he was skinny, like most lofty people.

What struck him as peculiar was that she had seemed to be avoiding him over the summer. She never texted him. When he texted her, she always seemed preoccupied. No one else seemed to have even talked to her.

So when she appeared, totally changed, he couldn't help but wonder what had actually happened over the summer. In all honesty, _everyone _seemed surprised.

Everyone, that is, except for one in the room. The one with pale violet eyes and swishy black hair.

Taylor waltzed in, simply giving Jake a wave and small smile before making her way over to Zackery. He was leaning against the table, arms crossed and smirking, before sitting down next to her. She pulled out her iPod, handed one ear bud to him, and hit play, listening to who knows what.

The tall boy's jaw seemed to literally hit the floor.

Since when did Taylor and Zim hang out?

**Ooooh yes. I finally update this.  
I ran out of ideas for Freshman year, so I'm starting Sophomore year. ^^  
Jake is my best friend irl. Everything in here is fact, except for Zim, and Jake's height. I dunno how much taller he is than me. XD  
Oh well, R&R! :D**


	4. Starry Eyed

**I just noticed that I messed up Jake's eye color in the last chapter. They're supposed to be murky green, not murky brown. X3**

**ANYWAYS. The chapter titles are the playlist for this story. They – for the most part – have nothing to do with the chapters. ^^**

"Come on, man, you're so slow."

Taylor was at the top of the steps, fixing a dress strap with one hand, holding a binder in the other, as she waited for Zim. As he finally reached the top, he was dramatically panting.

"You're evil, dirt-child," he breathed, chuckling darkly at one of their inside jokes. "Maybe I should've walked GIR instead of having you."

Taylor smirked a little before patting the boy's back.

"We'll be late for Theater at your pace." Her cowboy boot's small heels clicked on the linoleum floor tiles as she walked towards the auditorium, Zim not far behind.

The large wooden doors scraped against the carpeted doors as Taylor prodded one open, Zim standing right behind her. As they walked in, she noticed that the teacher was sitting up front, looking at a clip board.

The teacher was young, looking perhaps as young as her late twenties. She had black hair that was pulled back into a sloppy pony tail, and she wore a simple white tee shirt and jeans. The teacher didn't wear normal teacher shoes. She had on a pair of black Converse.

Taylor already liked this teacher.

Zackery stood next to the inch-shorter girl, looking around.

His pale violet eyes locked with murky green, and both quickly turned to glares.

The rest of the Sophomores chattered idly, oblivious to The Best Friend's and The New Kid's stare down.

Taylor, however, turned, giving Jake another small wave and miniscule smile. The taller boy frowned, sitting down and looking away from them. The girl's smile faded quickly, and she lowered her hand.

"Ignore the Almighty Tallest," he chuckled, trying to cheer her up with another inside joke and his heart-breaking head tilt and crooked smile combination.

It seemed to work, for she smiled back at him lightly.

Jake was watching them out of the corner of his eye, frowning on both the inside and the outside.

_I've gotta get her back to her old self. Away from that green kid._


	5. Exit Wounds

**Just to answer a few questions:**

**Yes, this is AU. Thanks for reviewing. Yes, this is the next chapter.**

Friday began like any other would. Going class to class, hardly talking. Taylor remained wordless when Zim wasn't there. Which was about half the time now. Once the second grading period began, Zackery was almost declared legally missing. If it wasn't for Taylor to know where he was, that is, and protect his sorry ass.

He owed her, big time.

Taylor slept in class more often than drawing this year. Especially when Zim was gone, it had seemed. But every time he was absent, her dreamless naps turned into horrible nightmares. Ones that were possibly real. The kind of nightmares that you woke up from, screaming and sweating.

About half way through the English lecture, Taylor began to doze off. Her dreams, real as ever, consisted of that man with the claws. The one with burnt skin, the one that tried to kill her every time she seemed to close her eyes. Freddy Krueger.

She jolted awake just as the man was about to slash her. Luckily, the bell had just rung. The dark-haired girl gathered her things, hurrying out. Jake carefully watched her as he left behind her. Green Kid was gone, and Taylor was jumpier than usual. Had something gone on ever since Zackery had been declared as the girl's new Best Friend? He just shook his head, dismissing the disturbing thought.

"I'm damaged goods for all to see, now who would ever wanna be with me?"

Those lyrics to the song were the ones she sang loudest as she walked home, up the driveway.

After she entered the house, the girl noticed it was relatively quiet. Bible Study, which her mother held regularly for Taylor and her friends, had been canceled for the week. Her 13-year-old brother was at his friend's house. Her 6-year-old brother was at their grandparent's house. Her father was working. Her mother must have had a meeting.

She ascended the stairs quietly, turning right and entering her room. The sheets were messed up – a usual – and the black sheets overlapped the green comforter. Guitar tabs, sheet music, and other papers littered the cream-colored carpet. Gray walls were lined with art of random things.

She set down her backpack before sitting on her bed quietly. Something felt wrong, much too wrong lately.

_Maybe a shower will help._

Taylor got up and made the short walk to the bathroom. She locked the door – paranoid reasons, perhaps – before removing her clothes and turning on the water.

As the dark-haired girl got in, she simply stood and let the water massage her back. It felt good, but still... Something was wrong. Everyone seemed to hate her, and Zackery was obviously avoiding her. But still...

Annoyed suddenly, she curled her hand into the fist, punching the shower wall. The pain that throbbed in her knuckles felt... _Good._

Pain is what she needed.

Turning, she began to punch the other wall. As she did, she heard the small _clank_ of plastic hitting the shower floor. Looking down, she saw it was her razor. She bent down and picked it up, suddenly putting it to her wrist.

Taylor grimaced. Sure, she had some pretty stupid ideas. But this? No.

Still, the razor remained pressed to her wrist.

Even if she debated it with her heart, her mind caused her to make an impulse decision, and she cut. Taylor allowed herself to let out a miniscule whimper before looking down at the cut. Tiny scarlet drops emerged, trickling down with the water like the drops of an April shower.

**I know, sucky chapter. But I had to update some time, and I can't really write at school without anyone seeing... So, yeah. Enjoy, watch for more.**


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